All I Really Want Is You
by DrarryHarmon
Summary: It's Arthur's birthday in a week, and Merlin can't for the life of him figure out an appropriate gift to give him. Turns out, he needn't have worried. Slash.


It would be Arthur's twenty-second birthday in a week, and despite how much of a massive prat he was, and the multiple misgivings of his character, Merlin was set on giving him a meaningful birthday present. Even though Arthur had never bothered to wish _him_ a happy birthday in previous years and didn't even grant him a day off. Merlin pushed the thought aside.

The only flaw in his plans was, of course, that he hadn't the slightest idea of what could be labeled 'meaningful' to a prattish prince who already had all that he could possibly desire. And so he had no idea what to gift him. He wasn't discouraged, however, because he was bound and determined to show to Arthur how much he sort of cared for the cabbagehead. Which was to say, only a little bit.

Maybe a little bit more than a little bit.

Okay, a _lot_ more than a little bit. (In fact, he might have even been a bit in love with Arthur. But really, who's to say? Certainly not Merlin.)

It was because he sort of cared for Arthur that he decided to find out what exactly it was the man might want. First, he went to Gaius for help.

"Maybe get him a puppy?"

"A puppy."

"I don't know, Merlin. I don't have time for such nonsense. But Arthur once told me he could never have too many hunting dogs, so who knows? Maybe he would appreciate it."

As it were, Merlin was not convinced. And so, as he brought Arthur his lunch in his chambers where he was sifting through scraps of parchment, Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly and asked, "How do you feel about… puppies?"

He couldn't help the wince that escaped him, realizing just what an absurd question it truly was. Apparently, Arthur thought so too, as he was staring at Merlin with raised eyebrows and a look in his eyes that was clearly asking what he had done that was so horrible that he was punished with such an idiot for a manservant. Merlin, unfortunately, could share that sentiment at the moment.

"Puppies." Arthur's voice held no inflection, but it was clear to Merlin that if he didn't get on with it - and, by gods, better have a _point_ \- then so help him, the stocks would be the least of his troubles.

Merlin gulped audibly and said, probably wisely, "Nevermind. Stupid question."

Arthur's brows furrowed, and all he said was, "On that, we're agreed." He went back to studying his parchments and ignored Merlin for the rest of the afternoon.

After that disaster, Merlin in turn ignored Gaius for the evening (even though it wasn't technically his fault), and went to Morgana for advice the next morning.

Her delight at Merlin's plight made him uneasy and embarrassed in equal measures.

"Undoubtedly, Arthur will want something he considers practical and manly, and won't take well to anything too sentimental. You might think about gifting him some sort of weapon. As long as he can use it to destroy things, he's perfectly happy."

Merlin didn't exactly consider it overly meaningful, but it was much better than the advice Gaius had given him. So with that in mind, he went to find Arthur.

He found him back in his chambers, sitting idly in front of the fireplace where a fire flickered and sparked in a merry dance. Merlin briefly wondered who had lit it, if Arthur had done it himself.

He collapsed into the chair beside him, and Arthur's only greeting was a grunt.

They sat like that silently for a moment, until Merlin sighed. "Arthur?"

He got a hum in response.

The discomfort Merlin was feeling was bizarre and unappealing, especially since he had never felt it in Arthur's presence before. "Where would one go if one was thinking of acquiring a dagger?" he asked with optimum inelegance.

Arthur's nose scrunched up at the odd question, but at least he answered this time. "Well, there are many things to consider to attain any good weapon…"

And soon, Merlin's innocent (enough) question was turned into a full-blown narration about things such as need for balance, distinctive shapes and the different usages, thrusting and stabbing capabilities, single versus double-edged blades, the importance of design, etc.

Merlin's head thumped on the back of his chair, and he let out an inaudible sigh. He was honestly amazed how Arthur could just go on and on about something that clearly interested him, something that Merlin never realized would need to be considered so much. It would probably be best if he didn't get him anything like that, then.

He would probably only get the wrong thing, anyway.

For the rest of the morning, he had to pretend like he wasn't about to fall asleep. Arthur didn't appear to notice.

With the knowledge of two complete and utter failures in mind, he hesitantly caught Gwen's attention as they passed each other in the hallways.

She smiled kindly when he explained his situation and his previous attempts of trying to find out what Arthur might like to have. Amused at some points and sympathetic at others, Gwen was proving herself to be the first person Merlin probably should have come calling to.

Until he heard her suggestion, that is.

"Flowers?" He stared at her incredulously.

Gwen blushed prettily, but stood firm in her recommendation. "Everybody likes flowers, Merlin. I think it would be sweet if you found some just for him." She smiled dashingly at him.

Merlin was convinced this would end horribly, but he had to at least try. If nothing else than just to please Gwen.

That was how Merlin found himself asking quietly, "What's your favorite flower?" in a way he almost hoped wouldn't be heard as he finished buckling on Arthur's armor.

The look Arthur threw him of absolute bewilderment would have been amusing, had it not been directed at him. "Don't be _ridiculous,_ Merlin, I don't _have_ a favorite flower." He stepped away to tie up his vambrace himself. "Unlike some people, I don't spend hours on end contemplating _flowers_ and other girly things. Now would you hurry up, I'm late for training."

In the end, Merlin did begin wondering what his favorite flower was - but only because he was bored out of his mind and didn't feel much interest in watching Arthur train at the moment. Of course, he would never tell Arthur that.

He had begun to lose hope after three failed attempts and Arthur's birthday drew closer and closer.

Merlin was particularly surprised by the conversation that started after stumbling into George on his way to pick up Arthur's laundry, as he hadn't thought the other man liked him much at all. But toward the end, he really didn't think he had anything to lose, and so asked George of his opinion on the matter.

Clearly, he should have known better, because what he got in return was something about pillows, and how Arthur was probably in dire need for some new ones. Merlin was rather affronted by this, sure he would have noticed if the prince was really not satisfied with his pillows. After all, he did have about twenty of them.

Yet still, when the next morning came and Merlin went to rise Arthur for the day, he couldn't help but ask, "Do you need new pillows, sire?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin thought he rather deserved that.

At last, the anniversary of Arthur's birth was upon them, and the entire kingdom of Camelot seemed to be in a mood of celebration. Merlin was disappointed in himself for being unable to think of a meaningful gift to give Arthur in time, but comforted himself in the promise of next year and the fact that Arthur probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

Instead, he made his way to the marketplace and bought half a dozen of the sticky buns that Merlin knew were Arthur's favorite. He figured he could bring them up when he brought breakfast. But as he was rounding a corner, he collided with a very firm, and very familiar chest. He stared at Arthur in surprise.

"There you are!" the prat exclaimed in obvious irritation. "Come with me, you idiot." He grabbed Merlin's wrist and dragged him back the way he had come. The way to Arthur's chambers, he realized.

Confused, Merlin asked, "Arthur?"

But the prince ignored him, instead grasping Merlin's wrist in an even tighter grip that was almost painful. He didn't protest anymore after that.

He was led to Arthur's chambers, where Arthur brought him to stand in front of his bed. Merlin let out a soft gasp at what he saw there. On the trunk in front of the bed sat a vase of flowers - white gardenias - and a beautiful, intricately carved dagger. And on the bed itself was a quietly sleeping puppy in a nest of brand new pillows.

He dropped the basket of buns he'd been holding and turned to where Arthur stood beside him, not bothering to hide his shock and amazement, and he was glad that Arthur appeared a bit sheepish as well. He shook his head, "What?"

"New pillows, favorite flowers, dagger, and… a puppy," Arthur indicated to each item as he spoke.

Merlin swallowed. "But… why?"

Arthur stared at him curiously. "Well, I couldn't imagine any reason why you were asking me about a bunch of random items, other than because you wanted them. So, here you go."

Merlin could only stare at him, mouth gaping open slightly, as his emotions flooded through him. He didn't cry, but it was a close thing.

"So, where's my present?" There was a hint of teasing in his voice, but Merlin couldn't make himself pay attention to it.

He swallowed around the thick emotion welling in his throat, looked down at the basket, and then back to Arthur guiltily. To his surprise, Arthur was staring back at him with a soft smile on his lips, and a gleam of gentle amusement in his eyes.

"I -"

Arthur hushed him with a finger to his lips, and really, when had the other man gotten so close? Merlin could see each separate eyelash flutter as Arthur blinked slowly, could see the minute twitches of his lips, the soft crinkles in the corners of his mouth and eyes. Eyes that were so blue and earnest, Merlin's breath was taken away.

"It's alright, Merlin. All I really want is this."

And suddenly, Arthur's lips were on Merlin's, sweet and gentle in a way that completely contrasted his personality. Merlin's heart beat picked up in seconds, racing against his ribcage and making him fear briefly that it might break through and escape. But those thoughts soon fled his mind as Arthur's tongue caressed his lips, and Merlin released a strangled moan.

His fingers soon found soft strands of hair, and buried themselves in them. The kiss became more urgent and forceful, Merlin giving as good as he got.

He decided that this was by far the best birthday present ever, even though it was Arthur's birthday, and not his. He thought that this right here could make up for all the times Arthur forgot or ignored the day of his birth, if only he just kept doing _that_ with his tongue.

He thought he might never need another gift again, if only they could do this forever.

He still wanted a day off, though.

 _fin_


End file.
